Silent Night
by highmaintenance
Summary: Post ep for 'Dear Sis'. After the unpleasant Christmas casualties, Charles tries to deal with the horrors he has witnessed. Margaret lends a shoulder to cry on. CM pairing.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own MASH, trust me...I'm only 18.**

**Well this little fic was inspired by the Christmas episode _Dear Sis_ and since it's nearly Christmas...well you get the idea lol.**

**This is my first C/M fic (even though I have been shipping them for ages) so I hope I made their attraction seem realistic. **

**So, please read and review and have a very Merry Christmas!!!**

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Charles had physically winced when Nurse Farrell had announced that it was snowing. Could anything more cliché have taken place?

Still, it was quite lovely and it did give the otherwise desolate Korean landscape an almost enchanting look. And it did bring a joy however small to the 4077th.

All in all, Charles didn't think the evening had been entirely dreadful.

Until the wounded had arrived.

Maybe it was because it was his first Christmas in Korea, but Charles had foolishly assumed that the fighting would have ceased for this day of all days.

But no, there the ambulance stood in the middle of the compound, dirty khaki against the white snow. Snow that was rapidly turning dark shades of pink and red from the wounded bodies.

Charles closed his eyes briefly against the sight of the ruined 'wonderland' and foolishly wished it to go away.

A hand on his arm brought the Major back to reality. Margaret was staring up at him, concern evident in her crystal blue eyes.

'Charles, are you okay?' she asked softly so only Charles could hear.

_She knows that I do not want to be seen as weak. _

Stiffly, Charles nodded his head and strode away from the blonde Major, ready to tend to the wounded.

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The OR session lasted until three in the morning. Charles slumped on his change bench, spent, haunted and thoroughly miserable. 

Pierce and Hunnicutt followed suit, flopping their heads back dramatically against the wall.

'That was one hell of a Christmas present.' Commented Pierce in an attempt to lighten the mood. It failed miserably.

Hunnicutt stretched lazily and scratched at his stomach. 'What say we go to the Officer's Club and try to forget this ever happened?'

Pierce stood up abruptly. 'I agree. Charles, you coming?'

Charles blinked sleepily and attempted to put the Captain into focus.

'No thank you Pierce. I would prefer to forget this evening without the aid of alcohol and inebriation.'

Hunnicutt nudged the Major and he groaned. 'Come on, Chuckles, don't be a spoil sport.'

'Please, gentlemen, I have had a very exhausting day. I would really rather just…sleep.'

Without another word, Charles hauled himself off the bench and made his way back to the Swamp not even bothering to change out of his blood soaked garments.

_Am I really that naïve as to believe that I can forget all this with just a good night's rest? I shall never forget this evening, not as long as I live._

Lost in his thoughts, Charles barely registered the bitter cold wind that whipped around him as he tramped through the now pink snow to his tent.

Once inside, Charles sat heavily on his cot and simply stared at the wall. He could barely think. He was so numb…seeing the tainted snow, the wounded with tinsel around their wrists and Christmas cards in their pockets.

A knock at the door brought Charles out of his musings. The Major stared at said door for a moment before he muttered a croaky 'You may enter.'

The door opened and Margaret rushed in, bundled in three jackets, two scarves and a beanie. It was almost comical to see a tuft of her blonde hair poking out of the blue fabric.

Margaret stood at the foot of Charles's bed, studying him as though he were a newly discovered species of fish.

'Margaret, if there is a point to this visit please make it and get out. I wish to be alone.'

The Major remained still, watching the surgeon cautiously before finally asking, 'May I sit down?' She pointed to a spot on Charles's cot, right next to him.

Too tired to protest, Charles nodded and Margaret sat down delicately, rubbing her arms for extra warmth.

She turned her soft blue eyes on him and Charles was both annoyed and grateful to see that they were full of concern.

'I…uh…just wanted to see if you were alright.' Margaret began slowly.

'I am perfectly fine, Major.' Charles replied coldly. He did not need any sympathy.

'Well, you see, the first Christmas is always the hardest. I know that last year, BJ didn't say a word to anyone. Just drunk himself under a table in the Officer's Club and woke up two days later with a huge hangover.'

'Margaret, you can hardly compare me to Hunnicutt.' Charles all but sneered.

The Head Nurse sighed and it became apparent to Charles that she was losing her patience.

'You don't have to admit anything to me, Charles. I just wanted you to know that I am here if you need to talk.'

She began to stroke his arm softly and even through both the material of Margaret's mitten and Charles's scrubs, it felt quite nice.

Before he could prevent such an occurrence, Charles felt a warm tear slide down his cheek. Then another, and another until he realised he was silently sobbing.

'I will never be able to celebrate another Christmas without remembering this night.' Charles whispered and took Margaret's offered hand.

'I know, it's hard, Charles. But you're strong. You can't let this get the best of you; I know you won't let it.'

Margaret's voice sounded choked and indeed when Charles looked down at her, the blonde's eyes were filled to the brim with tears.

Not caring if he overstepped any boundaries, Charles leant down and placed a soft kiss on Margaret's forehead.

'Thank you for caring so much, Margaret.' He whispered.

Margaret smiled at Charles and reached up to caress his cheek and wipe away the tears. Charles leaned into the touch, closing his eyes as he did so.

Silence fell between the two Major's, comfortable and friendly. Margaret huddled closer to Charles in an attempt to get warm.

'Shall I put my arms around you?' The surgeon asked shyly.

'I would like that.' Came Margaret's slightly husky reply.

Charles bundled the blonde into his arms protectively, Margaret's head on his shoulder, their legs entwined.

'I care…very deeply for you, Charles.' Margaret admitted after 10 minutes of silence.

'And I you…but I fear that…becoming involved in a war zone…may not be the wisest of decisions.'

'Exhibit A: my marriage.' Margaret joked although Charles could hear the bitterness in her tone.

'Don't torture yourself with memories of such an unpleasant nature.'

'Only if you promise not to brood over this evening.'

Charles immediately stiffened. 'I cannot make that promise.'

Silence, this time tense.

'I'm sorry.' Margaret whispered.

'It is alright…it is just a fresh wound. I must let it heal before I can deal with it.'

'I understand.'

They fell into silence for a third time and after 15 minutes Margaret realised that Charles had fallen asleep, his head resting on hers.

Margaret lay the Major down on his cot carefully, so as not to wake him and untangled herself from him.

She stood up and prepared to leave when a loud snore emitted from the sleeping figure.

Margaret couldn't help but chuckle.

'Sweet dreams, Charles.'

END

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**Remember to leave a review, please!**

**Until next time, Abyssinia!**

**Lucy**


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